


Electric

by cavedinwriter



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: (sometimes), Alcohol, Confident Martin, First Kiss, Fluff, Jon is Very Bisexual, Listen everyone's out here with punk Jon let Martin have fun for once, M/M, Mutual Pining, Punk AU, Punk Martin AU, Yes I took a bunch of web things and made them a band what about it, this is IT everybody
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 09:27:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24967456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cavedinwriter/pseuds/cavedinwriter
Summary: Martin had a series of secrets about his personal life that he was determined to keep hidden. One of them was the fact that he’d lied on his CV. Somehow, that hadn’t come back to bite him too badly. Yet. Sure, he looked like a bit of a bumbling fool compared to Tim and Sasha, but that was okay. He was used to being underestimated.The other secret was of less consequence to his job, but somehow he felt it would be more embarrassing if his coworkers found out. Martin led a bit of a double life. Not in an extremely unexpected way, lots of musicians had day jobs. It was just that his personality in his band contrasted so heavily with the personality his coworkers knew. To his coworkers, he was shy and stuttering. When he was on stage, however… he was an entirely different person(With a different last name to boot). He didn’t want to see what Tim and Sasha thought of that side of him, and god forbid Jon found out.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 22
Kudos: 216





	Electric

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry it's taken me so long to post this, but here it is! The Punk Martin fic!! I hope you enjoy, cause I had a really fun time writing it.

Martin had a series of secrets about his personal life that he was determined to keep hidden. One of them was the fact that he’d lied on his CV. Somehow, that hadn’t come back to bite him too badly. Yet. Sure, he looked like a bit of a bumbling fool compared to Tim and Sasha, but that was okay. He was used to being underestimated.

The other secret was of less consequence to his job, but somehow he felt it would be more embarrassing if his coworkers found out. Martin led a bit of a double life. Not in an extremely unexpected way, lots of musicians had day jobs. It was just that his personality in his band contrasted so heavily with the personality his coworkers knew. To his coworkers, he was shy and stuttering. When he was on stage, however… he was an entirely different person(With a different last name to boot). He didn’t want to see what Tim and Sasha thought of that side of him, and god forbid  _ Jon  _ found out.

_________________________________

Tim spun his chair around dramatically after finishing typing out his last sentence. Sasha looked up from across the room and raised her eyebrow quizzically. Tim leaned forward and grinned mischievously. 

“What is it?” She sighed, but a smile played at her lips. 

“It’s just been a bit since our last outing as a crew, don’t you think?” He said innocently.

“Oh boy, another team bonding exercise?” She laughed. Tim pouted.

“You say it like it’s not just going out and getting drinks!”

“It’s never  _ just _ getting drinks.” She said.

“Come on! Aren’t you dying to do something fun?”

“Maybe,” She shrugged, “But there’s no guarantee that Martin or Jon will come.”

“Martin will be happy to join us!” Tim said, standing up, “Jon, I’m not so sure, but I’ll be damned if I don’t try to get him to come. That man needs a goddamn break.”

“Do you think Martin can handle an evening of drinking next to him?” Sasha giggled, covering her mouth with her hand. Tim snorted.

“He’ll be fine.”

“I hope so.” Sasha said, stretching as she stood. Together they walked to Jon’s office, where Martin was just opening the door to come out.

“Just who I was looking for!” Tim grinned.

“O-oh, really? Me? Or J-”

“Both of you. Come on!” Tim announced, grabbing Martin’s elbow and spinning him back around into Jon’s office. Jon looked up, clearly surprised to see the three of them all stood at his desk.

“What is it, Tim?” He asked, putting his pen down.

“Are you free this Friday, boss?” Tim asked. Jon pursed his lips.

“I think so. Why- Are you planning another… institute outing?” His voice was dripping with distaste. Tim smirked.

“You guessed it! Since you’re free…?”

“...Fine. I suppose a break would be… fine.”

“Great! The whole gang!” Tim punched the air in celebration.

“U-Um? I actually can’t do this Friday. I already have plans,” Martin piped up apologetically, “But the three of you have fun!”

“Are you sure?” Tim said, surprised, “We can reschedule.”

“You sure you don’t want to-” Sasha began with a nudge to Martin and a wink.

“No! No, it’s fine!” He flushed, clearly sensing where she was going.

“Alright. Well, we’ll be sure to have you with us next time.” Tim patted his back. Martin smiled.

“Thanks.”

Tim considered it a success to have three out of four of them, especially considering Jon had actually agreed to come with them. It wasn’t that unusual, but often it took some convincing, or a lot of scheduling to find a time that he wasn’t working. Tim just hoped it wasn’t too awkward without Martin to keep up some conversation with Jon.

__________________________________

Jon tapped his fingers absently against his leg. Tim had elected for them to arrive separately, saying he didn’t want to go to the bar in his work clothes. Jon figured it was reasonable, but didn’t bother changing himself. So, he was early. The bar he’d chosen was a bit different from the ones they usually went to.

For one, there was live music. There was a small band that Jon had never heard of opening for whatever band Jon had  _ also _ never heard of before that was playing later on. He felt awkward sitting on his own at a table for four. He’d sat somewhat close to the stage because he figured if he lost track of the conversation, it would be interesting to watch the bands play.

A chair screeched next to him, jolting him out of the background noise of the bar. Tim was sitting next down to him, Sasha right behind him. They were both dressed more casually, and Jon suddenly felt a little out of his place. He subtly undid the top button of his shirt.

“Good to see you, boss!” Tim said as he adjusted his chair. He raised his voice a little to carry over the noise of the room. Jon craned his neck to be able to hear. That was something he always found a little unpleasant about bars; they were so noisy.

“You don’t have to call me boss outside of work.” Jon said.

“I know.” Tim said. Jon shrugged.

“Have either of you heard of this band before?” Sasha asked. Tim shook his head.

“Nope! Honestly, all I saw was live music. Didn’t really look into what kind.”

“It’s not my usual scene, but it’s not bad.” Sasha mused. Jon nodded.

“I used to listen to punk music a lot,” He admitted, “It feels a bit nostalgic for me.” Tim whipped his head around.

“No way, you? A punk?”

“I wasn’t a punk!” Jon held up his hands, “I just liked the music in college. “

“Uh huh,” Sasha laughed, “Suuuure.”

“Really!” He said, face growing hot. It was true. He liked punk music but he’d never actually gotten into the scene. It was too much noise and movement. He remembered how Georgie had laughed and called him an old man when he’d expressed that.

“Well, glad I could take you back to your roots,” Tim said triumphantly, “I’m going to get us drinks, because it’s a crime that I’m not tipsy yet.”

“Go on then.” Sasha shooed him. Tim stood up, leaving Jon with Sasha. 

“A bit sad that Martin couldn’t join us.” Sasha said, leaning in. There was a glint in her eye for some reason. Jon nodded.

“Yes, I suppose so. I can’t imagine what he was busy with.”

“You know we have lives outside of the institute, right?” She snorted. Jon coughed.

“Right. Yes. Yes, I know. I just… I was surprised, that’s all. He’s usually excited about these.”

“We’ll have to catch him up next time, then.” She said. 

“We will.” Jon said as Tim came back with drinks. He plopped them down on the table ceremoniously. The music in the background had died down, and Jon noticed absently that the main band for the night must be setting up. He didn’t pay them much attention, instead he grabbed his drink and took a sip. 

He didn’t drink terribly often, but he didn’t mind it. The burn settled pleasantly enough in his throat and he decided to focus on whatever Tim and Sasha were talking about. They were talking about some show that he hadn’t seen. He was about to comment on something when a power chord sounded from the stage.

Jon turned his head to look up at the stage. The drum kit was black with a stark white spiderweb design on the bass drum. The band was clad in black with similar spiderweb designs on each of their shirts. There was a drummer, a bassist, a guitarist, and a microphone standing empty at the front of the stage. Jon heard Tim and Sasha’s conversation trail off next to him as the guitarist struck another power chord. The lights dimmed even lower and Jon watched as a black shape made its way up to the microphone.

The band started playing, and whoever it was started to sing. Their voice was raw and rough but somehow slightly familiar. The lights stayed low until the music suddenly picked up and the singer all-but screamed. Lights blared on behind them, and Jon’s jaw dropped. Standing there in the center of the stage was Martin Blackwood. It took Jon a moment to process it, but once he did he wasn’t sure it made any more sense.

Martin was wearing the same black shirt with a web on it as the rest of the band, but the sleeves were cut off roughly. He wore a studded belt and tight black jeans, and his chunky boots thumped against the stage. His hair was pulled back into a low ponytail and he had black eye makeup and lipstick on. Jon was absolutely dumbstruck.

“H-Holy shit. Are you- is that?” Sasha whispered beside him.

“Is that… Martin?” Jon echoed. Tim was silent, but when Jon could tear his eyes away from Martin for a moment he saw that Tim was just as shocked as he was. None of them said anything until the first song finished. Martin finished the song on a loud, long scream of a note that made the hair on Jon’s arms raise.

As soon as the song was done, Martin’s face relaxed into a gentle smile. It was the only familiar thing about him at the moment, but it looked completely out of place against everything.

“Hi, everyone! I’m Martin Webber, and we’re the Cobwebs,” His voice was as soft as it usually was, but still with a confidence that Jon had never heard from him before, “Thank you so much for coming out tonight, we’re really excited to be playing here!”

The rest of the band introduced themselves as well, but Jon wasn’t listening.

“Oh my god,” Sasha exclaimed, “Martin Webber.  _ Martin Webber _ . He’s got a fake last name and everything!”

“I-” Jon started, then shut his mouth. He had no idea what to say.

“Who knew Martin could- I mean, I didn’t even know he could sing,” Tim commented, “That’s really something.”

“He’s really good.” Sasha agreed.

“Alright, that first song was called Wishing Well. This next one’s called Rose Conditioner. Enjoy!” Martin said, and stepped back from the mic for a moment. 

The song started with a complicated guitar riff that was soon joined by bass and drums. Martin joined in soon after, joined with harmonies from the other band members. 

Tim and Sasha were talking to each other, but Jon couldn’t focus on them. All he could focus on was Martin. His presence on the stage was completely different from how he was at work. At the Archives, he took up as little space as possible, which was easy since he was short to begin with. Here, with his platform boots( _ platform boots, oh my god, Jon thought _ ) and the swagger in his step, he was taking up space in the most effortless way possible. He  _ commanded _ attention, Jon realized, and oh boy that was a thought. 

It took several moments for him to be able to even process Martin’s singing beyond just that: Martin singing. He listened to the lyrics as best he could in the crowded bar. From what he could piece together, it was strangely longing for such an energetic song. Martin gripped the microphone with one hand and cast the other up to the ceiling as he screamed out the chorus, and Jon felt something twinge inside of him. It felt like jealousy, but that didn’t make sense. As much as he’d enjoyed punk music when he was younger, he’d never seriously entertained the idea of being in a band.

Then Martin launched into another verse of longing for something,  _ someone _ , and Jon realized. Fuck. He grabbed his drink and downed it.

“You alright, boss?” Tim chuckled, patting him on the shoulder.

“Fine.” He coughed, throat burning.

“Are you sure? You look a little… I dunno.” Sasha said, clearly hiding a smile. Jon glared at her.

“I’m  _ fine _ . Just surprised.”

“No kidding. I mean, just look at him!” Tim whistled. Jon tried not to let the jealousy bubble up again, “I didn’t know he could move like that.”

“Yeah.” Sasha nodded. Jon would’ve nodded along if he’d been cognizant enough to do so. As it stood, he could barely keep his hands from shaking as he watched. 

Martin had his eyes screwed shut most of the time as he sang, and his grip on the microphone was white-knuckled. At some point, the tie holding his hair back had been lost and his hair was now whipping around his face. He bounced and stepped in time with the beat of the drums, never missing a note. Jon kept being startled by the fervence with which he sang. He was still struggling to reconcile the Martin he was used to with this Martin on the stage. There had to have been some mistake. Martin Webber was just someone who looked remarkably like his coworker. Sounded like him, too, when he spoke normally. But no, it was clear. This was Martin Blackwood, Jon’s assistant who he’d gotten  _ far _ too used to putting down.

The song ended and Martin ran a hand through his sweaty hair, grinning at the audience. Jon’s eyes followed the movement, and he found himself wanting to run a hand through Martin’s hair. He swallowed down the feeling.

“Alright, this next one’s called Watcher.” Martin announced.

“Oh, is it?” Tim leaned over to Sasha and she laughed. Jon titled his head in confusion. Was there something he was missing?

Jon expected the song to be similarly high-energy, but to his surprise the guitar that started it out was slow and melodic. Martin leaned in close to the microphone and shut his eyes. When he sang the first note, Jon was pretty sure his heart stopped beating.

This had none of the grit of the previous songs. Martin’s voice was like melted butter, smooth and strong as it carried through the room. The lyrics were something about someone that Martin was clearly longing for. Someone just out of reach. Jon felt that jealousy bubble up inside of him again and bitterly tried to swallow it down.

He was  _ not  _ jealous of whatever person his coworker was pining after. That was entirely ridiculous. And yet… Jon felt himself growing more and more enraptured in the song. The emotion in Martin’s voice as he crooned into the microphone, the way he swayed back and forth. He kept his eyes shut the entire time, pouring everything out into his singing. 

He opened his eyes as the song ended and looked down at the audience. His gaze swept over the crowd and he locked eyes with Jon for a moment. Panicked, he saw Martin’s eyes widen, flick over to Tim and Sasha beside him, but then a smile forced onto his face and he cleared his throat and began to speak again.

“Oh god, I think he saw us.” Jon rasped.

“I know! I hope he says hello after the show, we have to congratulate him,” Sasha exclaimed, “Right, Jon?”

“Jon?” Tim echoed after Jon didn’t respond. Jon shook his head, trying to focus.

“Right. Yes. Sorry.”

“Are you alright?” Sasha asked. Amusement was clear in her voice.

“I’m fine.” He insisted. He hoped it wasn’t  _ that _ obvious how flustered he was.

Jon wasn't entirely sure how he made it through the rest of the Cobwebs’s set without passing out. Every song made Jon’s head spin more and more. Watching Martin was intoxicating. He’d only had one drink but his head felt fuzzy by the time Martin closed out the final song and gave his thanks to the crowd. 

Part of Jon hoped that the band would just pack up and leave so he wouldn’t have to collect his thoughts enough to actually talk to Martin. Unfortunately, once Martin had helped the band pack up, he meandered over to their table. 

“I didn’t know you guys were coming to this bar!” He said sheepishly, standing a little awkwardly at the edge of the table.

“Martin!” Tim catapulted out of his seat and wrapped Martin in a bear hug, “That was absolutely incredible!”

Martin laughed, wobbling under the weight of Tim’s body. Jon itched to reach out and hug him too, but he held back.

“I didn’t know you could sing like that!” Sasha exclaimed, “How long have you had a band without telling us?”

“Oh, uh, maybe 6 years now?” Martin said, still trying to catch his breath. The front of his shirt was soaked in sweat and his eyeshadow was smudged. Now that he was closer, Jon noticed that he’d filled in his eyebrows to match his dyed-black hair. At work, usually his eyebrows and lashes were his natural ginger.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Tim slapped him on the back. 

“It’s not exactly… the most professional? I wasn’t planning on you finding out, but…” He trailed off with a grin and a shrug.

“Well, I loved it! I will be listening to all your music  _ immediately _ .” Sasha said confidently. Martin shrank shyly. 

“O-Oh, thank you. I- I’m glad you liked it. I- It’s so different from work, you know? I’m glad you don’t think it’s- weird, or something, I don’t know.” He said, face still pink. Jon almost smiled at how he was back to how he usually was as soon as he stepped off the stage. Or perhaps it was just that the three of them were there.

“Of course we liked it! Right, Jon?” Sasha turned back to face him, and Jon paled. He was nowhere near coherent enough to say anything.

“U-Uh, yes, yes it was good.” He said, wincing as the words came out much more dismissive than he wanted them to. Martin deflated a little bit, but still managed a quiet ‘thanks’. Tim plowed through the awkwardness.

“I'm gonna get us another round of drinks!” He said, guiding Martin to the chair opposite Jon.

Sasha kept excitedly talking with Martin, who’s discomfort seemed to have faded. He was now lively again. Jon stared awkwardly at the table, tracing it absently with one finger. He wanted desperately to tell Martin how much he’d enjoyed it, but… the words wouldn’t come out. More than that, they wouldn’t even form in his head. How was he supposed to describe the way every hair on his body stood up and felt electrified when he heard Martin sing?

How was he supposed to put to words the way he felt he could listen all night and never get bored or lose focus? Or how he felt inexplicably  _ pulled _ towards him? He could practically feel the energy rolling off Martin when he sang, and he wanted to be close enough to drink it in.

Tim saved him from his spiraling bi thoughts with a gentle hand on his shoulder. Jon realized with a start that he’d returned with drinks.

“You alright, boss? Looked a little freaked out.” Tim said quietly. Jon was relieved to see that Sasha and Martin were still talking, not looking at them. Jon shrugged.

“I’m fine. It’s- it’s a lot.” He said vaguely. Tim slid him a drink.

“And that, my friend, is why we have alcohol!”

“That’s a terrible motto.” Jon snorted.

“Maybe, but I’m not wrong. Alright, you two!” He snapped his fingers and Martin and Sasha looked over at him, “Time for a toast!” Sasha grabbed her glass and raised it with a grin.

“To Martin!”

“O-Oh, Sasha you don’t-” Martin stumbled, but Jon smiled.

“To Martin.” He said, raising his own glass. Martin looked at him, surprise written all over his face. Slowly, his lips quirked into a shy smile. Jon’s stomach did a flip.

“To Martin.” Tim echoed, subtly patting Jon on the arm.

“T-To me, I guess.” Martin conceded, raising his glass tentatively. Tim whooped with delight.

________________________________

  
  


Martin was anticipating the next week of work to be much more awkward, but was relieved that Tim and Sasha didn’t seem to be treating him any differently. Well, occasionally they would give him a little nudge and remind him how good he’d been, and well, he wasn’t complaining. Jon was… a little odd, though. Martin tried hard not to be disappointed. Ideally Jon wouldn’t have found out about the Cobwebs at all, but he’d hoped he would at least be slightly into it. But he’d seemed stiff, at the show, and now he kept casting glances at Martin when he thought he wasn’t looking.

Martin tried not to let it get to him, chalking it up to Jon being Jon. He went about his day as normally as he could; bringing Jon tea and ignoring the side eyes, doing his research. He almost brought it up with Tim and Sasha but decided against it. He didn’t want to bother them about Jon being… odd. It was just how things were. Besides, as weird as it was, he didn’t exactly mind Jon looking at him. Maybe he could pretend it wasn’t because he thought Martin was a punk weirdo.

The rest of the week passed with Martin pushing the awkwardness to the back of his mind in favor of his work. He was looking forward to Friday, because he had another show. He was going to go, sing his heart out, and ride that euphoria to forget about Jon seeing him. It was a foolproof plan.

  
  


Foolproof until Martin stepped out on stage and his stomach plummeted. Jon was- Jon was standing almost in the front, staring up at the stage. Martin stopped breathing as Jon’s eyes met him. Why was he here? Where were Tim and Sasha? Why hadn’t they mentioned anything about coming to see him again? His eyes darted over the crowd, searching for Tim and Sasha. There was no sign of either of them, even though usually Sasha was easy to pick out, towering over most others. He sucked in a deep breath.

No panicking. Absolutely no panicking, not on stage. It was fine. There were probably plenty of people in the crowd who thought he was weird or overdramatic, what was one more? Even if he  _ knew _ the person this time. He cast one last glance behind him at the band, giving Francis a shaky nod. Francis gave a thumbs-up and started tapping out a beat on the drums. He swallowed down his nerves and began to sing.

It was easy to lose himself in the music after the first song. He ignored Jon, instead keeping his eyes high towards the back of the room, just like he used to do when he was just starting out. That way, he couldn’t make out the faces. It was just a dark mass of people watching, singing, cheering.

Soon came one of his favorite songs. It was slower than most of the others, more of a love ballad than the others. He really got to pour his tenderness into it, and he liked that. Of course, it was… loosely based on his feelings for Jon. Or maybe more than loosely. To be quite honest, most of the newer songs were. He just hoped it wasn’t horribly obvious. Maybe he could ask Sasha or Tim, because they’d already picked up on his feelings for Jon so it would only be slightly embarrassing to ask.

He shut his eyes tightly, trying to block out all thoughts of the audience entirely. He took in a breath and began to sing, putting as emotion in as he could without thinking too much about Jon. The song was one of his favorites because as much as he loved the more energetic ones, there was something so freeing about letting his voice come out soft and sweet. It was calming, almost hypnotic to just let the music flow out of him. He also enjoyed the surprised looks on people’s faces when he went from screaming to crooning sweetly.

That was a lot of what he enjoyed about the Cobwebs, honestly. He liked surprising people. He was short and round and quite easily overlooked, except on the stage. Obviously it usually wasn’t too much of a shock at shows; people came for punk and were expecting it, but he knew that he wasn’t always what people expected. Especially after the set ended, he faded back to his usual personality very quickly. 

But for the brief minutes on stage, he could be unexpected. He could go from belting to gently whispering out a melody at a moment’s notice, and it was extremely satisfying to have that much control over something. 

He finished the song with a smile, eyes still closed. In fact, he’d almost forgotten about Jon in the audience until he opened his eyes. When he did, chest still heaving from the last long note, his eyes locked immediately on Jon’s. In an instant, he was frozen. Jon’s eyes were wide and unblinking, and his mouth was slightly ajar. He wasn’t just looking at Martin, it felt like he was looking  _ into _ him. It was entirely too much for Martin to handle.

Martin stumbled imperceptibly back, breaking the line of sight by ducking his head. He felt completely breathless so he stared at the floor while he collected himself. It felt like hours but was only a few seconds, and he didn’t think anyone in the audience really noticed. Probably just thought he was being dramatic(which, fair, he was). Except Jon, he probably thought he was being weird-

“Alright there, Martin?” A hand was on his shoulder. Martin’s head snapped up to look at the familiar face of the guitarist, Mr. Spider. He flashed a quick smile.

“Yeah, yeah. Just a bit out of breath is all.” He said, straightening up. Mr. Spider nodded, giving a small smile that was mostly hidden in the shade of the brim of his hat. Martin sucked in one final breath and was collected again.

By the end of the show, Martin was a sweaty mess. His hair was sticking up in all directions and the front of his shirt was damp and quickly becoming uncomfortably cold against his chest. Despite it all, he felt as amazing as he always did after shows. He’d managed to sing through the constant stress of  _ Jon, Jon, Jon _ there in the back of his mind. He and the rest of the band were packing up and getting ready to sell merch. Mr. Spider and Annabelle were dealing with their respective instruments, so as usual he went to help Francis with the drums.

He gave Francis a pat on the back as they started to pack up.

“Loved the energy tonight.” He said. Francis shot him a grin.

“Likewise! You had a bit of a moment there, though, you good?” They asked. Martin shrugged, face flushing.

“A-Ah, yeah, just- startled by something, that’s all.” Francis’s eyes narrowed.

“By what?”

“Nothing! Nothing.” Martin said hurriedly, starting to walk offstage. Francis followed, calling after him.

“Martin! God dammit, man, what?”

“What’s he done now?” Annabelle laughed as he approached the merch table. Martin stuck out his tongue.

“I didn’t  _ do _ anything! They were being nosy.”

“Uh huh.” Annabelle nodded, “Sure.”

“Martin’s being suspicious!” Francis complained.

“He’s very good at that.” Mr. Spider commented, throwing an arm over Martin’s shoulder. Martin’s face burned.

“I’m not being suspicious!!”

“Then tell me what was going on!” Francis said, elbowing him. 

“It’s nothing! I-I just saw somebody I wasn’t expecting to! In the crowd.” He said defensively, extricating himself from Mr. Spider’s arms and beginning to shirts from boxes to place them on the table. Lines were forming already, and he did his best to split his attention between his friends and the gathering crowd.

“Oh?” Annabelle said, joining him at the table, “Who?”

“Nobody.” Martin sniffed. Francis laughed.

“Oh my god, Martin, we’ll get it out of you eventually. Just give it up.”

“Fine! Fine,” He hissed, lowering his voice, “It was Jon. But- no Tim or Sasha, just Jon. I don’t know why he was here by himself! He probably thinks I’m-”

“Nope, none of that,” Mr. Spider said, laying a hand on his shoulder, “No spiraling until  _ after _ we’ve sold the t-shirts.”

“Yeah, yeah, alright,” Martin said, “Sorry. I’m just- it’s fine.”

Annabelle clearly looked concerned but she didn’t press it. The band all knew about his unfortunate feelings for Jon, even if he didn’t talk directly about him much.

They turned the rest of their collective attention towards the fans, signing and handing off t-shirts for a good hour or so. By then, the crowd had thinned, and Martin was starting to get pretty tired of standing. He was about to slump against the table when he heard the sound of someone clearing their throat softly.

Martin looked up to see Jon standing shyly at the other side of the table. He had a bit of the same wide-eyed look on his face from earlier, but he didn’t seem… upset? Disgusted? Martin didn’t know what he was expecting, in all honesty. He stepped awkwardly around the table to meet Jon, ignoring Francis’s quiet “Go get ‘em. Tiger”. Jon didn’t seem to hear, thank god.

“H-Hi, Jon?” Martin said, cursing how unsure his voice was. Jon seemed to start, despite the fact that he’d been the one to approach. He paused for a second, then cleared his throat again.

“I… I just wanted to say. Um,” Jon blinked. Martin wanted to laugh, realizing for the first time that  _ Jon _ seemed nervous, “Sorry. I just wanted to say good job. And, uh, if you have any shirts left, I’d like one.”

“Oh,” Martin couldn’t help the grin that was spreading across his face like wildfire, “Yeah, yeah of course! Why didn’t you get in line earlier?”

“I don’t really like crowds,” He admitted, hovering nervously by the table as Martin shuffled through mostly-empty boxes, “A-and I um. I wanted to talk to you when it wasn’t so noisy.”

Martin’s hands trembled.

“W-What size do you want?” He asked weakly.

“Medium, please.”

“Great. We’re out of the album cover design, but we still have the simple web.” Martin offered. Jon nodded.

“That’s perfect.”

Martin grabbed a shirt and handed it to Jon, who handed over a crisp £20. Martin took it and placed it with the rest of the cash from the night. Jon folded the shirt over the coat that already hung off his arm. He was still hovering awkwardly, clearly not quite ready to leave, but the transaction was over. Martin didn’t want him to leave either, especially not now that he seemed… well, genuinely interested in the band. So he cast a line out.

“Uh, you haven’t met the band yet.” He said. Jon met his eyes, looking a little startled.

“I haven’t. I um.”

“Come on! They don’t bite.” Martin said, tugging Jon’s arm to try to get him to come around the table.

“Speak for yourself, Martin!” Annabelle snorted, walking up. Jon let out a small laugh.

“Annabelle Cane.” She said, sticking a hand out.

“I- Jonathan Sims.” He said, shaking her hand. Annabelle laughed.

“Oh don’t worry, we know all about you.” She said. Martin smacked her arm.

“Annabelle!”

“He tells us a lot about you lot at the archives.” Mr. Spider called.

“I-I’m flattered,” Jon said, craning his neck to see the others in the dim light, “What’s your name?”

“You can call me Mr. Spider.” He grinned, once again mostly hidden by the brim of his hat. Jon raised his eyebrows but didn’t comment.

“And that’s Francis,” Martin finished, pointing to the drummer, “It’s actually kind of exciting that you’ve met, now? I mean, it would’ve been cool if Tim and Sasha were here too, but I suppose there’s always next time.”

“Martin, if your friends come to another show I think you might have a heart attack.” Mr. Spider laughed heartily. Jon, surprisingly, joined him.

“You did look like you were about to pass out for a moment there.” Jon said. Martin squeaked.

“You- You  _ saw _ that?”

“Well, yes, I was looking directly at you.”

“I- I can’t help it if I’m surprised by my  _ boss _ looking me dead in the eyes after I’ve just finished singing a love song about-” Martin cut himself off sharply, blood rushing to his face. He was sure his bandmates knew how that sentence would’ve ended, but he was  _ not  _ keen on Jon knowing. Jon, for his part, just shrugged.

“I suppose so. But I couldn’t help it either, what else was I supposed to look at?” He said it so casually, but it sent a chill down Martin’s spine. The idea of Martin being the only thing Jon could possibly focus his attention on was thrilling, to be quite honest. He tried not to let it show.

“All the talented musicians.” Martin retorted. Jon smirked.

“I was.  _ You’re _ a talented musician.”

“I-” Martin started, but Francis cut him off.

“Stop flirting in front of us. Martin, go talk to your boyfriend-”

“He’s not my-!”

“-We’ll wrap things up here.” Francis waved him off. Martin opened and shut his mouth.

“You- you know he’s not- I-”

“Go!” Annabelle pushed his shoulder.

“I- Christ!” He held up his hands, “Okay! Okay. Jesus.” He and Jon walked back out from behind the table and started towards the door. As soon as they were out of earshot of the others, Martin stumbled into an apology.

“I’m so sorry about that, I don’t know why they-”

“It’s alright, Martin,” Jon held up a hand. Martin's stomach did a flip when he saw that Jon was smiling, “I don’t really mind.”

“Oh. Uh.” Martin mumbled. 

They stepped out of the bar and before they could go any further, Jon glanced around.

“Where… are we going?” He asked with a slight smile.

“I’m not sure? I don’t really want to go home yet, but if you’re tired-”

“No, no, I’m fine.” Jon said.

“Alright then. Um. Fancy a walk by the water?” Martin suggested, angling his head.

“That would be wonderful.” 

“Great.” They turned down the sidewalk. Martin shivered slightly. He was still only wearing a tanktop that was now cold with sweat. Jon glanced over, noticing his shivering. He paused.

“Would you like my jacket? I’m not going to wear it.” Jon offered. Martin flushed and started to refuse, but a gust of wind blew past and he sighed.

“Yes, please.” Jon handed his coat over and Martin slipped it on gratefully. It wasn’t warm except for where it had been pressed against Jon’s body, but Martin’s body heat warmed it up quickly. He pushed the sleeves up a little from where they dangled past his hands. He caught Jon looking at him and ducked his head.

They kept walking, reaching the wall at the end of the street that overlooked the water. Martin paused, laying his arms against the wall and looking out at the dark water. Jon stopped beside him as well. To Martin’s surprise, Jon was the one to break the silence. His voice was soft in the still night air.

“I meant what I said, you know.”

“What?” Martin broke his gaze away from the water. Jon’s face was surprisingly vulnerable, wide eyes locked onto Martin. Martin found it difficult to breath.

“You’re really talented. I wish I had said it better last week, but I was… honestly too much in awe. It’s- Your voice is really beautiful.” He said, tentatively reaching out a hand towards one of Martin’s outstretched arms.

“Jon,” Martin said weakly, “You- I was so terrified you thought it was weird, or- or too much, that it was too different from how I am- How you know me.” The words spilled out, the fears that had been collecting throughout the night. Jon let out a breathless little laugh and shook his head.

“No, no, Martin, it’s- I mean, of course it’s different, but it’s still  _ you _ . Especially that… that moment. When I- Martin, I could feel  _ everything _ you were feeling in that moment, just from your voice. I mean, obviously not, but you know what I mean, right?”

Martin nodded numbly, eyes locked on Jon’s face as he continued, grip on Martin’s arm tightening.

“There was just so much love in it, so much longing, and it felt so… so real. I-” Jon broke off with a bitter laugh, “It almost makes me wish I could be on the receiving end of something like that. A feeling like that. Sorry, that was…” Jon pulled his hand away. Martin chased it with his own, grabbing his hand. Jon immediately looked up at him. God, his  _ eyes _ .

“You are.” Martin blurted. Confusion flashes across Jon’s face, written in the crease of his eyebrows.

“I don’t understand.” Jon’s hand twitched in his. Martin threaded their fingers together more intentionally.

“On the receiving end of that feeling,” Martin clarified, talking quickly so he didn’t have time to regret it, “The song was about you. A bunch of others were, too.” He said, embarrassment creeping into his voice. He watched the confusion turn to shock on Jon’s face and he almost pulled away, worried again that something was going to go terribly wrong.

“The song. Was about me.” Jon said, but it wasn’t a question. Martin could tell he was running the statement over in his brain, processing it.

“Yeah.” 

“I-” He blinked, then looked at the ground and smiled, “M-Martin, may I kiss you?”

“Please.” Martin said, feeling as if the breath had been punched out of his lungs. 

Jon took a step closer and their chests brushed together. Jon took his free hand and placed it on Martin’s cheek. Martin let his eyes fall shut as Jon leaned in.

Jon’s lips were warm and chapped where they met his, pressing gently but insistently. Martin wound his hand around Jon’s waist, pulling him closer. The angle was a little awkward, craning his neck up to reach, but holy fuck Jon was  _ kissing him _ . He tasted a bit like cigarettes but Martin didn’t care because it was Jon. 

Jon slid his hands onto Martin’s sides under his coat and Martin couldn’t help but smile against him. Unfortunately it broke the kiss, and Jon pulled away. Martin tried not to gape too much, looking up at Jon’s shy smile. Seeing Jon smile sent a whole new wave of weakness through Martin and he felt his knees give a little. Jon’s grip kept him standing, though, and he let out a little gasping laugh.

“I- I can’t believe- You-” Martin stammered, “You kissed me. You actually kissed me.”

“I did.” Jon said, amusement clear in his voice.

“Wow.”

“Indeed.” Jon said, tilting Martin’s chin up to face him, “Can I do it again?”

Martin chose to respond by kissing him again. He was a little more firm this time, leaning up on his tiptoes to get a better angle. Jon let out a noise of pleased surprise into his mouth. Martin had a little bit of his confidence back now, and pushed Jon’s hips gently so he was against the brick wall. Jon let himself be moved, not breaking the kiss the whole time. Eventually they both had to pull away to breathe, faces flushed.

Jon still had a small smile on his face, and Martin leaned his head on his shoulder.

“So, I take it you liked the show?” He said cheekily. Jon snorted and swatted his arm.

“ _ Yes _ , I liked the show, Martin.” Jon’s voice was full of fond exasperation.

“Just checking.” Martin said innocently. 

“Mhm. I’m sure.” Jon said, placing a tentative kiss on the top of Martin’s head. Martin smiled and found one of Jon’s hands where it rested on his hip. He threaded their fingers together silently. They stayed there for a little longer than they needed to, leaning against each other in the quiet night.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Let me know if you liked it :D


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